


A Christmas Carol and a Coffee Shop

by awfuldaycupcake



Series: Unrelated Christmas One Shots! [4]
Category: Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: But also, Christmas Play AU, Coffeeshop AU, Human AU, M/M, also:, because ITS CHRISTMAS EVE WOW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuldaycupcake/pseuds/awfuldaycupcake
Summary: Roman was always acting. He knew what roles he’d be cast with. He always did. He was the child of the theater. He grew up there. He always knew what to expect-- until one time, he didn’t. Enter Virgil, a quiet pessimist and the perfect Ebeneezer Scrooge, the only person who ever successfully stopped him from his constant acting. Roman... didn't know how to feel about that.Human AU / Actor AU / Coffee Shop AU in about 3500 words. Merry Christmas!





	A Christmas Carol and a Coffee Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Eve! Have a cute Virgil and a sour Roman. Love you!

Their sleepy little town wasn’t known for much. There was a coffee shop around the corner that was pretty good, there was that one pizza restaurant that was alright, and there were a ton of farms everywhere. But... that was about it. Roman lived in the center of what could hardly be considered a town, neverless a city, in the middle of nowhere. It was his home, though. He would never leave.

His reason? The theater.

Ever since Roman was little and was filling the shoes of Tiny Tim, the theater was his home. He knew that stage better than he knew his own bedroom, and he never felt quite himself unless he was there, in costume, submerged in spotlight. It was his comfort zone. All eyes turned to him. He never worried, of course. He’d have his lines down pat _weeks_ before the show began, sometimes even before he was cast. Roman knew what roles he’d be casted with. He always did. He was the child of the theater. He grew up there. He knew what to expect.

Until one time, he didn’t.

Logan Sanders, stage manager of the annual Christmas play, trudged through the wings of the theater. He was always in charge of running errands. Hanging the cast list was always a disaster, as it lead to tears and screaming and general emotion. That was not Logan’s specialty. The director however, his twin brother Thomas, had made it even harder on him this year. He… wasn’t expecting the results that came.

Thomas decided that casting for this show had been easy. It was often easy with Roman Prince, but this particular audition round was very… _enlightening_ for him. He was well aware the theater-going crowd of their town loved Roman, but he was also aware that they could love someone else, too! At the end, it was an easy decision to make.

Logan walked briskly to the front door of the theater, spotting Roman out of the corner of his eye. A crowd of excited actors mobbed around the door. It was Roman that Logan gave his attention to. “Roman. Hello.”

“Hey there, Lo! Cast list up, bright and early, as usual. Say, how’s your brother doing? Everything going well in the Sanders household?”

“Attempting to flatter me or Thomas will not affect the results of the cast. It is already in print,” Logan stated, concealing the sheet from Roman’s view. He was not going to be happy about this, and Logan hardly wanted to be the one delivering the news. “Besides, he is doing well. Now, if you don’t mind,” Logan said. He taped the paper to the clear glass door, disappearing as soon as he could.

The Christmas play this year, as it had been the very first year Roman auditioned at the theater, was Dickens’ _A Christmas Carol_. His first role he could remember was as Tiny Tim, and he was sure that, in his reprisal and return to the show, he would be the perfect Ebenezer Scrooge. He was practically _born_ for the role! He was insistent. Then again, he practically claimed to be “born to play” every lead in any movie, play, or musical ever, so perhaps this was another one of those moments.

But, upon seeing the cast list, his stomach dropped.

His eyes scanned over and over his name. This couldn't be right. The crowd was still pushing closer, trying to get any attempt to see the small cast list. “ _Marley?!_ ” Roman shouted to anyone who would hear. “Marley! Who ever thought I’d be a good Marley! I’m too cute and those chains are far too drab!” The crowd pushed him further, away into the sidelines to wait with a huff.

“I heard you got Marley! Congratulations!” Roman turned his head to see a young man in a blue polo and cardigan with bulky glasses. He was waiting on the outskirts of the crowd as well, eyes excited and mouth pulled in a grin.

“Hardly. I’m sorry, have we met? I’m Roman Prince,” Roman said. He gave a polite bow, and the cardigan man giggled.

“Are you kidding me? Everyone here knows you! You’re practically famous,” he said. Roman rolled his eyes in jest, but was actually quite touched. Roman loved nothing more than being the center of attention. “I’m Patton, and this is my buddy Virgil!” Sure enough, a sulking, eyeshadow-covered man in a hoodie was standing behind him. All he greeted him with was a halfhearted shrug.

“Pleasure to meet you both. Do you know the roles you will be playing?” He said, moreso to Patton. He didn’t often associate with quiet people. He found them rather boring.

“I know I’m Fred! I saw the cast list earlier. I’m not so sure about Virge, though. I think he’d make a good Scrooge, myself,” Patton said. He was proud of his friend. It took a lot to get Virgil out of the house, nevertheless up on stage. It took a lot of coaxing and he had to call in a couple favors, but he was sure it would be worth it. He’d _seen_ Virgil act. He was beautiful.

“You seem like a Fred,” Roman said. “And your little friend. Perhaps… The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come? Come on, angsty. Tall, dark, and brooding in definition. Black clothes, hastily applied make-up to attempt to make you look threatening. Gonna show me a grave?” Roman was almost taunting him, but not intentionally. He was still _so_ stirred up about the fact that he -- _he!_ \-- hadn’t gotten Scrooge, and that the nice guy talking to him would rather have the emo in front of them in the role. It was insanity!

Virgil didn’t answer him, just flipped his hair slightly and gave him a scowl. “Whatever, JD-lightful. Break a leg,” Roman said, his tone meanicing and mildly threatening. He turned on his heel, walking back inside the mob to see that cast list _one_ more time. Just to double check.

He had been right. Three days passed before he found himself back in the theater, a script in his lap and sitting in a circle of chairs around the stage. The first rehearsal was always a script readthrough. That’s how it always was. Highlight your lines, correct your pronunciation, and learn how to go bounce off the other actors as your character. It usually was one of Roman’s favorite rehearsals, but for this show, he was simply offended. How _dare_ they cast him as anything other than Scrooge himself! He was so talented!

“Logan, it isn't fair,” he complained. Logan, sitting in the chair next to him with a million papers piled in his lap, didn’t even look up.

“Uh-huh,” he stated. He flipped the script to a certain page, making a note in red pen. Roman either didn’t notice that he wasn’t listening or didn’t care.

“Attention, guys, gals, and nonbinary pals!” Thomas called, marching up the front steps and onto the stage. “Welcome to the first rehearsal of the 2017 Winter season!” He got a few claps from that, and he smiled, continuing. “I’d like to thank all newcomers and veterans of the theater, and I’d like to remind everyone that conflict calendars were given at auditions. If there is a date you cannot be here, let me know at least a week in advance and we’ll talk. We clear?”

“Crystal,” Roman piped up. Thomas gave him a smile, too. He was just feeling rather smiley today. He loved theater will all of his being.

“Good as gold! That said, let’s begin!”

The show started with the overture, the First and Second Boys and Girl exchanging in slow, stuttered dialogue. Well. There was a reason they weren’t leads. Roman wasn’t going to complain, but there were some things about community theater that he just _couldn’t_ stand.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle! God save you!” Patton called. Patton made a very convincing Fred. Roman just knew he would be a good actor. He was loud, confident, and an all around--

“Bah! Humbug!” It wasn’t the line that set Roman’s blood on fire, but the person saying it.

Who else but annoying, stupid, makeup-covered emo boy to play _his_ role! The role he was _born_ to play! Roman’s eyes fell into a narrow squint. Oh no. This would _not_ do.

“Christmas is humbug, Uncle? I hope that’s meant as a joke.” Roman let Patton’s voice fade, his head too full with annoyance and irritation to concentrate on anything else. That was his part! It was meant to be his! How dare he?

The show went on as it goes, Roman being sure to do an awe-inspiring version of Marley. A truly good actor is flexible to meet all parts. Maybe the directors just needed to be reminded of that from time to time, hmm?

Days and rehearsals passed. Virgil was a good actor, but Roman wasn’t about to give him credit. He was terrible at learning his lines. He always looked panicked, and any spare second he was off stage he was running to Patton to check on his script. The complete lack of professionalism was driving Roman crazy.

Well. Almost. He always was a bit of a hypocrite.

“Good luck out there, Brad Pitiful. Hope you don’t mess up as bad as you did yesterday!”

“Count Woe-lof, you missed a line on page 21. You’re throwing off the others. That’s your fault.”

“Okay, you have to be doing this on purpose. It’s _hospitable_ , not _hosible._ Repeat after me. _Hos-bit- I’m a terrible actor and might as well resign._ Perfect! You’re improving already.”

If anything, it was that last comment that was the straw to break the camel’s back. That, and tech week. Any comment Roman would give him Virgil would turn a bright pink. He was a mess, eyes empty. He’d just blink. This last comment it almost looked like his eyes welled up, but Roman chose to ignore it. It's probably the stage lights. If not, it was just tech week getting to him.

Tech week was getting to all of them, really. Logan was up everyone’s necks, insisting on having every line memorized and every prop in order and every light cue prepped and ready. Logan was always the one to be arriving on a schedule, and everyone knew Virgil wasn’t meeting that schedule. He didn’t have his lines, and Roman was fed up. Before Virgil went on stage the second night of tech week, Roman pulled him over again. Virgil’s face sunk at the sight of him.

“Oh, you nervous, Panic at the Everywhere? Does someone need an understudy? Good thing I’ve got the entire script memorized. We could replace you in a second,” Roman said. His tone was full of intended malice. Virgil, instead of doing the usual thing where he just blinked really hard and left, paused. He took a deep breath, the red rising to his face.

“I’m trying so _hard_ to be the best I can be in this part,” Virgil said. His hands were shaking, and as he kept speaking he kept getting faster. “There’s so many lines and so many words and I’m really freaking out, man, and I didn’t even want to be part of this but Patton wanted me to and _you’re_ being a piece of shit and wigging me out and all you ever tell me is how awful and terrible I am and it’s not like I don’t already tell myself that? I don’t need that confirmation because I want this show to be the best it can be and I’m _sorry_ you didn’t get the part, really I am, I’d give it to you in a second but I can’t let him down and I can’t let Thomas down and Logan down and I’m just so tired and could you please just _STOP!_ ”

Roman… paused.

He. He didn’t know what to do. Or… say, really. He just… “Oh. Shit. I’m sorry, I-”

“Save it,” Virgil said. He turned, pushing past Roman and heading towards the stage. He almost let him go. But he didn’t. Roman couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t leave it. He was _Roman_ , he always needed the last word. Roman reached out and grabbed Virgil’s arm. Virgil turned around, his eyes like sharp lightning.

“Let me make it up to you,” Roman said. He was staring him dead in the eye. “Tech week is nothing but stress on top of stress on top of stress. Meet me for coffee Thursday morning. My treat.”

Now Virgil was at a crossroads. He really hated this guy, from what he knew of him. But… Free coffee was free coffee. He almost turned him down, but for some reason, he couldn’t will himself to.“I’ll think about it,” Virgil said. He turned back around, walking out of the wings and onto the stage.

“Meet me at Rizzo’s! Ten o’clock sharp!” Roman called. He ignored the annoyed shushing by Logan, too lost up in his own thoughts to care.

Roman showed up at the coffee place at ten o’clock, as promised, bright and early the next day. He smiled at the barista, ordering his drink. He figured he’d order in advance, just in case Virgil was late. He loved this little coffee shop. They were super environmentally conscious, and used real ceramic mugs and plates. Little bins sat in the corners to deposit the cups, and they were always reused. The vibe of the place was nice, too, a small stage with a blackboard facing away from the windows. It was adorable, and then there was the name-- _Rizzo’s_. Rizzo was one of Roman’s favorite characters, despite his complicated relationship with Grease (Sally had to change herself entirely in order to win any love at all? Ridiculous.) She was tough. She was bold. She didn’t care what people thought. In that way, she was his complete and polar opposite.

Roman grabbed a seat facing away from the windows, his mug in hand. He’d gotten a mocha, of course, and it was delivered in a cute little two-toned mug with weird sine and parabolic functions on it. He took a sip, pulling away at the burning liquid. Well, this was good. Maybe by the time it cooled Virgil would be here.

He wasn’t.

Roman drank his coffee anyway, deciding that maybe Virgil would arrive by the time he was finished.

He didn’t.

Well. Roman ordered himself a bagel, not wanting to sit at the table without anything in front of him. He had an appearance to uphold, and lonely coffeeshop brooding wasn’t part of that appearance. He sat there in his seat, cream-cheese bagel uneaten and growing cold, waiting in quiet for Virgil to maybe show.

It seemed like he wasn’t coming.

Roman sighed. It really stunk. Sure, the coffee was really good, he didn’t regret buying that. But… Well. He was kind of hoping the little emo showed up for some reason. It wasn’t like he _liked_ him or anything, it was just that he. He. Uh. He was a good actor. And he had good hair. And he always smiled in a crooked, half-happy way and he had eyes that were a shining gold color and he put up these walls to hide himself and he never let anyone in and Roman wanted to _break_ those walls and _clasp_ him in a tight embrace, and--

Okay. Well. Maybe he did like him.

Roman was singing quietly to himself before he realized what he was doing. _“There are worse things I could do than go with a boy or two. Even though the neighborhood thinks I'm trashy and no good. I suppose it could be true, but there are worse things I could do…”_

Virgil shouldered the door open, his face tired but his eyes wide awake. His taxi pulled away behind him. He’d slept in. The stress was getting to him, and he’d run off the schedule like a train off the tracks. God, this was all his fault, and Roman would surely find him so stupid. Why did he care what Roman thought? The guy was nothing but terrible to him. But… He was redeemable, for some reason. It felt like he did what he did for some arbitrary idea of social status that he’d created for himself. It wasn’t him. It was acting. Roman was always acting. Vigil just wanted to see Roman as something a little more than that. He wanted to see _Roman_.

 _“I could stay home every night-- wait around for Mr. Right, take cold showers every day and throw my life away on a dream that won't come true.”_ Virgil looked up at the singer, his eyes falling on Roman. He was singing very quietly, not quite under his breath, but not like he needed anyone to hear it, either. It was personal. Virgil… Virgil liked that.

Virgil walked towards him, falling into the chair across the table. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I honestly don’t have a good excuse. I slept in. I know that’s stupid, but this tech week stuff is crazy and I’ve never even been in a show before,” Virgil said. Roman looked up, and there was an indescribable look in his eye. Virgil chose to ignore it. “Does it get any easier? I mean, as shows go on. You’ve done a million and a half, I bet you’d know.”

“No,” Roman said. That bizarre look hadn’t moved from his face. “No, it doesn’t.” Virgil smiled. There was something serene about this. He wasn’t quite sure what it was.

“I think you told me you’d buy me a drink,” Virgil said. Roman’s strange face faded, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“Well, Scrooge McDuck. I believe I did.”

Time passed as Roman bought Virgil coffee (How could any living human being drink black coffee? ) They sat in the little coffee shop for what felt like a blink of an eye. They talked about inside jokes with the cast, past shows Roman’s been in, Virgil’s other hobbies (which mostly consisted of writing, which Roman found very interesting. Maybe they could write their own musical one day.)

Eventually the time came for them to leave. Roman grabbed his keys, offering a hand to Virgil. “My prince, would you desire a ride upon my loyal steed?”

“You drive a Honda,” Virgil said. Roman just laughed, pulling him up anyway.

“Rehearsal starts in two hours. You should really rest up,” Roman said. “And use those studying techniques I was telling you about. Line memorization is endlessly frustrating, but I promise it gets more bearable.”

“Yeah, things tend to be a little more bearable when you get to know them more,” Virgil said. He offered Roman a tiny look.

They arrived at Virgil’s house, a small ranch house in the middle of the town. Virgil smiled. “Well. I better not keep Patton waiting.”

“You… live with Patton?” Roman said, looking at the house. Oh. Oh, they were dating. Right. Sure. This wasn’t a date. This was two, uh, coworkers sharing thoughts over coffee. God. Right. This wasn’t what he thought it was. Of course. Why would it be? Ha.

“Yeah. Uh--” Virgil seemed to pick up on Roman’s train of thought. “He’s my brother. I figured we’d move out at some point, but. You know Patton. He likes to take care of people.” Roman’s face regained its color. They were _brothers._ “Anyway. I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

“Would you like me to walk you to the door?” Roman said. Oof. That was a gap. He didn’t expect him to actually say yes, for he was--

“Yeah. I’d like that.” Virgil interrupted his thoughts. Roman looked up at him, a smile in his eyes. Virgil smiled back.

The door to the house was a bright red. Roman shut his car door behind him, walking around the car to open Virgil's for him. Virgil laughed. “What a gentleman.” He stood, walking up the cement path to the door. Roman’s heart was beating unusually fast. It had been a long time since he’d had a crush like this. It had been a long time since he’d had a _crush._

“Thank you so much for today,” Virgil said. “It’s cool to see you when you aren’t pretending to be such a dick all the time.” Roman rubbed a hand on his neck.

“Yeah, well. Sorry for being such a Scrooge,” he said with a chuckle. He looked up, just in time for Virgil to lean in, pressing a small kiss onto his lips. It was only a second. Just a small little peck. But it set Roman on fire.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Virgil said, opening the door and disappearing behind it. Roman, dazed, walked back to the car.

He opened the door, sitting in the front seat, pausing to make sure that no one was looking. And then he broke. A huge belly laugh and the desire to squeal overtook him. Gosh, how could this be happening? To him? He was so terrible towards Virgil, and yet! And yet! The one person who didn’t meet the status quo, the one person who stood out and didn’t care but still cared. The one Virgil. He liked him. He’d _kissed_ him! Roman could barely contain himself.

That night at rehearsal, Virgil’s lines were a million times better. Roman watched from the wings as he presented them, a brilliant smile on his face and something new in his eyes. “A merry Christmas to you! A merrier Christmas than I have given you for many a year!”

Tiny Tim walked on stage, a smile on his face and no cane in his hands. Roman mouthed the final words of the show along with the boy, his eyes still glued on the smiling Virgil.

“God bless us, every one.”


End file.
